written by: Jack Wolfe Frost
Unfinished business it follows like a shadow,
Carving the light, insipid darkened grotto,
Waiting for always and deemed to end life,
Black poison arrow shot into black night.
Is my life nothing, that horror waits for me,
Always and ever the night for me to flee,
Scratching and biting upon my window pane,
Seeking as ever on me for it to gain.
Doubt not that ever one day it will be near,
And shall I at that time descend to silent fear,
And quivering my mind or rest upon my bones
Of ivory and ebony may one day I atone.
Silence. It is here, the day has come at last,
When all those times that happened arise up from the past,
And death’s sweet sting I know to me it never will not haste,
Forever and forever I find myself disgraced.
And will my mind, the demon here, ever let me live,
Will I ever, ever…
To me at last forgive.
Jack Wolfe Frost
Latest posts by Jack Wolfe Frost (see all)
- Find Me - October 2, 2020
- Is This What It’s To Come? - April 30, 2020
- Death - September 16, 2019